


New Rules

by cigarettesandalcohol



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Break Up, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Post-Break Up, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-27 21:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16710082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: Paulo always gives up.Until one day, he doesn't.





	New Rules

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a work of fiction. You can but don't have to read it as an AU/sequel to the "He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss)", personally, I don't think that Paulo from the "He Hit Me" story could manage to do what he does in here. Also, the implied dysfunctional relationship they have/had could be whatever you want it to be. Emotional vampirism, emotional abuse, of course, if you want it worse, it could work like that too.  
> I'm sorry to both protagonists, I swear one day I will stop writing stories about Paulo being a victim and Ronaldo being a dick.  
> If the tags/the theme offends or triggers you, don't read it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy! <3  
> The title and the theme are of course a play on Dua Lipa's song "New Rules".

"It's over, Cristiano - "

 "You don't know the whole story."

"I know just enough."

"Where's the good person I knew - "

"Long gone," Paulo replied firmly.

"Paulo - "

"Stop. Just - _stop_."

" _Cariño_ \- don't lie to yourself." His strong hands grabbed Paulo's shoulders with such force he wasn't prepared for and he shook from head to toe under the possessive touch. "I can see the tears in your eyes - Why are you doing this? To hurt us both? You know I love you. Why can't you understand it?" The grip grew even tighter with every other word. " _I love you_. You know that." His eyes stared deep in Paulo's soul, cutting his heart in half with the intensity of his stare. " _Paulo_."

"No," he says, but his voice is much weaker than he thought it would be - it's as weak as his hands who just can't keep on pushing Cris away. Cris seized the moment of his momentary lapse of reason, and he touched his neck as he tilted the smaller man's head back to kiss the exposed skin on his Adam's apple that moves as he gulps.

Dybala froze, just for a moment, waiting for some kind of a sign to finally push Cristiano away for the last time, but the moment never comes; Cristiano's lips are all over his skin, his jawline, his cheeks and then it's too late.

He gives up.

He always does.

 

 

Until one day, he doesn't. He's laying in his bed, watching his phone ring, turning light and black again to the sound of his favorite song. He doesn't have the will to answer, his hands feel too heavy to even lift so he waits until the ringing is over, That's when he realizes he's been holding his breath the whole time.

Five minutes, not more. 

_And then again._

He rolls on his side, to face the boring white wall next to his bed. 

This isn't what a break-up should look like.

Well, after all, their relationship definitely wasn't a perfect one either. 

 

 

"What are you gonna do, ignore me for the rest of your life? Get out of Juventus, seek help somewhere else? What you wanna do, Paulo? Pretend like none of this has never happened?"

Paulo keeps the concentrated look on his face as Ronaldo spits the words in his face in the locker room; they're both still sweaty from the practice and the other guys are there as well, chatting by the bench, and Paulo is glad they're not alone. 

That's his new rule. _To never be alone with Cristiano._

He doesn't answer, not even when Cristiano grabs his hand and pulls it as a needy child that needs attention - and that's exactly when it hits Paulo; Cristiano is just like a child, a spoiled, bratty child who doesn't even try to pretend he cares about others because it simply can't be expected from him; the kind of kid who doesn't borrow his toys, who doesn't know how to share things and who screams and cries when he can't have his way - and he suddenly doesn't seem frightening at all.

"Are you _fucking deaf_?"

"I need to go home," he says, rushing to get out of Ronaldo's grasp and reach. Thankfully, there's Fede, who turns right him with a smile and a question: "What were you two doing there?"

"Nothing," Paulo shakes his head, smiling assuringly.

And it doesn't feel like lying because there indeed isn't anything between him and Ronaldo.

Not anymore.

 

 

In a moment of weakness, he confessed all his sins to Federico, leaving out the details about the was Cristiano treated him behind closed door; Bernardeschi was shocked but didn't seem to be surprised.

"You changed a lot since he came."

"I left all my friends out of this, for good reasons - it's none of their business - but I feel like I've let them out of my life as well and now I don't have anyone to talk to - "

"Are you sure it's the best thing to leave him like this, now, when you both will still be playing together at least for some time?"

Paulo's eyes were dead serious. "I've been thinking about this for the past month. Believe me, I know it's gonna be hard." He stared in Fede's eyes, as if wordlessly begging for help. "I can't be alone with him. He's got this magnetism and I can't - I know I can't - resist that and help it but feel sorry for him when he talks and when he says he loves me so much - "

Federico frowned and now Paulo felt sorry for him being dragged into the disgusting stories of his mates he never wanted to know. "I've given up so many times just because of his eyes and voice - "

"He's sucking the life out of you, for fuck's sake!"

"I know. That's why I need your help."

 

 

There were at least 6 missed calls on his phone every day. 

There were Ronaldo's eyes following him around the pitch.

There was Cristiano himself, always trying to be his training partner, and there were his usual words "Wait for me", hissed through his gritted teeth.

Paulo felt terrible, cold, emotionless and indeed like an " _ungrateful bitch_ " because Ronaldo gave him so much, no matter the toll -

Until one day, there was nothing.

Ronaldo didn't say a word when he entered the locker room, and when their eyes met, they both kept awkwardly silent. 

"Hey," Ronaldo said at last, grabbing his own jersey from the bench.

"Hi."

There's not a single call from him in the evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are welcome! <3  
> Come join the ship that sails at slashandsports.tumblr.com


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